


dinner and a jailbreak

by killerqueenwrites



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, Kidnapping, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Protective Tony Stark, The Raft Prison (Marvel), Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, but not endgame compliant, he just wants to be a good dad okay, no thank u - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:26:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25336108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killerqueenwrites/pseuds/killerqueenwrites
Summary: “I’m not your kid!” Peter shouts.“Don’t walk away from me, I’m not done–““You’re not my dad!”Peter fitting in after the Blip isn't as easy as Tony hoped it would be. He wants his kid back, but they can't seem to stop fighting.and then Peter goes missing
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, background Pepper Potts/Tony Stark - Relationship
Comments: 36
Kudos: 550
Collections: Irondad and his Iron kids, The Best Irondad/Spiderson Fics, The Best Peter Parker Whump Fics, The Friendly Neighborhood Exchange





	dinner and a jailbreak

**Author's Note:**

  * For [peterjackson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/peterjackson/gifts).



> i went for prompts 2 & 3 because I’m a sucker for both: ‘Tony & Peter argument with some angst and whump’ and ‘Peter gets taken to the Raft’. please excuse any mistakes, this was a pinch hit and I wrote it in like five days. it became a monster. what have i raised
> 
> shoutout to storm_aurora for the argument idea!
> 
> enjoy!

They won. They _won_.

Peter thinks it feels great, except he can’t quite remember losing in the first place. He remembers the ship, the red planet, the aliens who quickly became allies. He remembers the fight, remembers Thanos leaving and then. And then.

Five years. Apparently. It’s not like he remembers them.

“Hey.”

He jumps a little at Mr Stark’s sudden appearance; he hadn’t heard him coming.

“You okay?” Mr Stark sits down next to him, feet hanging over the edge of the dock. “You’ve been staring at the lake for ages.”

Right. The lake. Because it’s been five years and Mr Stark has bought himself a house on the edge of a lake and got married and had a daughter.

He shrugs. “It’s nice. Never imagined you somewhere like this.”

“No,” Mr Stark says, a weight behind the words that Peter doesn’t quite understand, “no, me neither.”

“Things change, I guess.”

“Some things.”

“Mm.”

Silence.

“Daddy!”

Peter swallows down the sting of rejection as Mr Stark turns away, his smile lighting up his face. “Hey, Maguna! What you got there?”

“I drew a picture of you and me and Mommy, look.”

“Oh, I see. And what’s that squiggle there?”

“Gerald!”

“Of course.”

“It’s our family,” Morgan says, and Peter has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep quiet. Of course it is. She’s right. He has no right to feel bad about that.

It’s been five years, he reminds himself. People moved on. Mr Stark has a real family now, not the patchwork bits and pieces from before. No more lab days, or movie nights with Chinese takeout and Rhodey showing up halfway through. Peter blinked, and the world turned without him. Time for him to move on, too.

He gets up, wincing as his legs cramp in protest; he must have been sitting there longer than he realised.

“You heading in?” Mr Stark asks.

“I’m tired.”

The man’s face softens. “Yeah, I bet. Pepper can show you where to lie down if you need a nap.”

“Cool. Thanks.” Peter heads inside, deliberately avoiding Pepper and Rhodey, and asks Happy to take him and May back to the city.

* * *

**_Message from: Tony Stark:_ **

_Hey kid, you took off pretty quick yesterday. I hope you’re okay. I’m always here if you need me._

**_Message from: Tony Stark:_ **

_I’m really glad you’re back, Peter._

**_Message from: Tony Stark:_ **

_Hey kid, want to come up to the lake house this weekend? Morgan wants to meet you properly._

**_Message from: Tony Stark:_ **

_Hey kid, I think I’d like to check both suits in case they were damaged in any of the fights. Any time good for you to come up?_

**_Message from: Tony Stark:_ **

_Hey kid, hope you’re doing okay. Just checking in._

**_Message from: Tony Stark:_ **

_I don’t want to push you, Pete, I just want to know you’re doing okay._

* * *

“What am I doing wrong?” Tony wails.

“You’re so dramatic. Get your feet off the couch.”

“He’s not answering, Pep.” He waves his phone in her general direction. “It’s been two weeks, and I’ve seen the kid once. I mean–“ His breath catches. “I did this for _him_. And he won’t even – how hard is it to answer a text?”

Pepper sighs and sits beside him. “Does he know that? Did you tell him?”

“I didn’t get the chance! He practically ran out of the house. All the Avengers there – and aliens. He’d never pass up the chance to meet aliens, Pep. Something’s wrong, and he won’t talk to me. It’s like – like I don’t have my kid back. Not really.”

_“Boss,”_ FRIDAY says, and flicks the television on.

_“…Rhino has been spotted in the last five minutes in Upper Manhattan. According to eyewitness accounts posted to social media, he is calling for Spider-Man. It is not known how Rhino escaped from the Raft prison, where he has been incarcerated since before the Decimation…”_

Tony meets Pepper’s eyes as the newscaster keeps talking.

“Like the universe heard your prayers,” she says dryly.

“But…”

“I know you promised,” she says, “just like I know those suits are still down there, just in case. The kid needs you, Tony. So go.”

* * *

Peter lands on the roof and rolls, ending up on his knees, and tries to suck in a breath. He can hear Rhino yelling on the street below, people screaming, the screech of tyres. He has to get back down there.

But he needs to catch his breath first.

“Come out, Spider-Man! Come and fight me!”

“Give me a minute, dude!” Peter yells back. “My world doesn’t revolve around you–“ He breaks off, cocks his head. He must be hearing things. He is _not_ hearing repulsors right now.

_“Thirty seconds out, Spidey. You want me to light this guy up?”_

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Peter hisses to himself. “Civilians in the firing line! Hang back, Mr Stark!”

_“Copy that.”_

The fight goes smoothly from then on, but by the time Rhino is beaten, wrapped in webs like a burrito, Peter is practically smouldering with rage. He’s surprised there isn’t steam coming out of his ears.

_“Nice work, kid,_ ” the suit says, and Peter almost hopes that it’s just that – a suit. But no, the faceplate flips up and it’s Mr Stark, in the flesh, and Peter has the sudden urge to punch him in his smug fucking face.

“Are you serious?”

“About what in particular?”

“I had that!” Peter growls. “I so could’ve beaten him by myself.”

“Okay,” Mr Stark says slowly, “but you didn’t have to. One of the perks of having Iron Man on call.”

“I didn’t call you.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Here comes the sarcasm. Peter can deal with that. “So sorry I was concerned about you fighting this lunatic who’s supposed to be in the Raft and decided to come help.”

“All the way from upstate?”

“It’s no time at all in a suit. I‘ve been checking Karen anyway in case I needed–“

“Oh, so you’re spying on me now?”

“Spying? No, it was on the TV – and I’ve always had access to Karen – look, it’s only been a couple of weeks, Pete.”

“Since what?” Peter challenges.

Mr Stark looks like he’s been slapped.

“I’m good. I’m fine. I didn’t need help. You can go back to your family now. The police are gonna show up and deal with this guy. It’s all good here.” Peter waits for another moment. “So, I’m gonna head out…”

“Okay,” Mr Stark says, something like defeat in his voice, “I’m sorry, kid.”

Peter turns and hops off the roof, one ear listening for the telltale sound of repulsors following him. Nothing.

“Karen,” he says as he swings, “was that rude?”

_“I believe your reaction was certainly abrupt, Peter.”_

“I just wasn’t expecting him to – I don’t know.”

_“You weren’t expecting Mr Stark to help you? Why is that?”_

Great. He’s being psychoanalysed by an AI. “He has a family now, all right? Everyone’s saying he’s retired as Iron Man. I just thought…”

“Judging by the twenty-three unanswered text messages on your cell phone, your implication that Mr Stark no longer cares is simply untrue.”

But not in the same way. That’s gone now. “But – he doesn’t have to swoop in and take over. I was fine.”

_“Perhaps you could communicate that in a more productive manner.”_

“You’re being very judgy, Karen.”

_“My apologies, Peter. May Parker has texted you. She says ‘Thai for dinner? Glad to see you got to speak to Tony. He’s been asking about you–‘“_

“Stop,” Peter says, that same sick feeling swirling in his stomach as the day he’d sat on the dock and watched Mr Stark’s world shift to put his daughter at the centre. He’s texting May now? Does he really not trust Peter to handle his own shit? “Tell her I’ll be another couple of hours.”

* * *

**_Message from: Tony Stark:_ **

_Peter, I’m sorry. I was trying to help._

* * *

It’s an accident, Tony swears it is. He’s in the city anyway, and so what if he always has a suit with him? Retired or not, he has to have some way to protect himself.

So when FRIDAY alerts him to a disturbance in Midtown, he flies over, only for her to tell him that Peter is also heading towards the same location.

Well, things didn’t go so well the last time Tony tried to help (although the word Peter would use might be closer to ‘interfered’) so he approaches as quietly as possible, perches on a roof with a good vantage point, and waits.

The man is blue, buzzing with electricity, eyes glowing as he stares down the street. Tony sucks in a breath, staying low.

“Spider-Man!” he bellows, chest and limbs sparking with every movement. “Show yourself!”

Why? Why do they always want Peter?

“Oh, you’re new!” a familiar voice quips. “Haven’t seen you around these parts before. You lost?”

Tony watches, heart in his throat, as Peter swings towards the glowing man. He’s not going to get involved, he’s _not_. Peter can handle this.

Until the man claps his hands together and sends a bolt of lightning straight for Peter’s chest. There’s a crackle, a scream, and the kid drops like a stone towards the street below.

The thud is sickening.

“No Stark to help you this time?” the man taunts. Peter rolls over with a groan. “Daddy isn’t coming to save you.”

Even from his position up on the roof, Tony can hear the little petulant, “Fuck you.”

_He can handle it. Let him handle it._

_You don’t know what this guy can do. You don’t know what he’s capable of._

“Standby, Fri,” Tony whispers.

_“Copy that, Boss.”_

“Fight me,” the electric man demands.

“Why me, man? Did you miss the Blip? It’s hard enough trying to get back to normal, and now I got everyone lining up for grudge matches with me.”

“And I won’t be the last.” He shoots another beam of electricity, as bright as anything even Thor could muster, and Peter barely manages to swing clear. “Pathetic! He said you would be a challenge?”

_He_? Who is _he_?

The next beam catches Peter’s web – and it’s a conductor, Tony made the most efficient conductor he could for the taser webs, but the webshooters are supposed to insulate, and he doesn’t understand why they don’t. Peter’s yell cuts off as his body spasms, and he starts to fall.

“That’s it,” Tony says and dives forward, snagging the kid’s ankle before he can hit the sidewalk. “‘Sup, kiddo?”

“You’ve _got_ to be kidding me,” Peter groans.

_“Boss, behind you–!”_

Tony spins just in time to dodge another beam of white energy. He narrowly avoids crashing into the closest building and rolls, Peter still dangling from one gauntlet.

“Ha!” the man bellows. “Iron Man swoops in once again.”

“Put me down – put me _down_!”

“How’s your suit? Still working? Any glitches?”

“It’s fine, will you _let go_?”

They land on the rooftop of a low building, both panting hard.

“Where’d this guy come from?”

“Do you think I know?” Peter snaps. “Where’d _you_ come from?”

“Across the street.”

Even under his mask, Peter’s glare is scorching. “Is it physically possible for you to go five minutes without stalking me?”

“Stalking?”

“I don’t need your help all the time! I have a reputation for always having Iron Man to save me, apparently. Which is great. Super great.”

“‘Super great’ is so many of these guys coming after you.”

“Is that why you’re hovering like a goddamn helicopter–?”

“Can’t take the Queens out of the boy, huh?”

“Tony!”

“Okay, okay. You still got your taser webs?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Use them.” Tony often realises that the suits he makes for his family actually have better features than his after the fact, and Pepper’s Rescue suit is no exception. Her weapons system has since been added to this suit, though, and he has every intention of using it. “On my count, you ready?”

He gets a grunt, which he supposes is better than nothing.

“Three, two, one, go!”

Peter shoots his webs in a rapid volley as Tony takes off, aiming his repulsors and willing the weapons to form around him. He fires.

The man yells at first, convulsing as if he’s in pain – but then starts to laugh. His glow burns brighter.

“It’s not working!” Peter yells. “Mr Stark, you see that water tower? Can you tip it?”

“Good thinking! Fri, get me a trajectory.” She pulls the angles up on his HUD. “Thanks, girl. Boutta make it rain, kid!”

“Copy that,” Peter says flatly.

Okay, so maybe Tony’s idea wasn’t the best. Whatever. Two heads are better than one.

He braces his shoulders against the tower and begins to push, grunting with the effort. It shifts, tips, and finally bursts open, flooding the street with a wave. Peter leaps out of the way just before it hits the man, who screams again and crumples.

Gone. Done.

They end up face to face on the same rooftop, Tony with his faceplate folded back, Peter with his arms folded tightly across his chest. Closed off.

“Well done,” Tony says sincerely. “Seriously good thinking. Better than me, apparently.”

Peter stares back, not giving away a thing through his mask, and eventually says, “I’m taking the trackers out of my suit.”

With that, he leaps off the roof and vanishes.

* * *

**_Message from: Tony Stark:_ **

_You can deactivate the trackers but please don’t touch Karen. She’s there for your safety._

* * *

Tony takes in the two men as they scurry away. Definitely familiar, especially the scorpion-suit guy. Friends of Toomes, probably.

Yeah, he did it again. But he’s going to talk to Peter this time. They’re going to sit on a roof together and watch the sunset and finally fucking talk.

“I had that!”

Tony turns. “Right. Yet another high-voltage villain and a scorpion cosplayer, who we have to assume has the venom to match. Once again, I’m just trying to look out for you.”

“Why are you here?” Peter seethes. “Why are you _always_ here?”

“Because…”

“Because what?”

Everything Tony wants to say sticks in his throat. His mouth opens and closes, powerless in the face of Peter’s scorn.

“Yeah,” Peter scoffs. “How about you go and focus on your _real_ family?”

“Pete–“

“Just leave! You’re not responsible for me, so I don’t know why you bother.”

“No, listen, kid–“

“I’m not your kid!” Peter shouts.

The silence is thunderous.

“I…” Tony flounders. That stings. “I don’t know what you want, Pete.”

“I want you to _back off_. I don’t need you hovering around out of obligation, or – or guilt. I know I’m just a burden to you, so why not just cut your losses?”

“That’s not true at all–”

“No? You keep showing up like you think I can’t handle myself. Don’t you have family dinner night or something?” He turns to storm away, his fists clenched.

“Don’t walk away from me, I’m not done–“

“You’re not my dad!”

That hurts worse. So much worse. Maybe because it’s true. Tony watches him leave, helpless.

* * *

_“Peter–“_

“Not now, Karen.”

_“Mr Stark is still–“_

“No.”

_“If you wished to resolve your argument–“_

“I will deactivate you,” Peter threatens, and is grateful when she finally falls silent.

He keeps walking, certain that not even the thrill of swinging can dislodge the anger burning hot in his chest. He’s so angry, all the time, even when he gets an acceptable amount of sleep, and he doesn’t know why. Even thinking about Mr Stark gets him irritated, but – the more he thinks about it – he’s starting to realise it’s a way to bury the hurt.

_Push him away before he does the same to you_ , his brain whispers, and Peter does. But no matter how horrible he is, Mr Stark can’t quite seem to cut those last few ties of obligation and guilt.

He might have crossed a line earlier, though.

_Good_ , the cynical part of his brain scoffs. Mr Stark can stop feeling like he owes Peter something. He doesn’t need to play pretend families anymore.

He’s so caught up in his thoughts that he doesn’t register the shapes moving in the alley to the side, doesn’t realise he’s been punched until he’s already sprawling on the ground.

“Ouch,” he groans. That wasn’t a normal punch.

“Man, this thing has some _juice_!”

It’s them, Shocker and Scorpion, looming over him with twin smirks on their faces. Gargan has his stinger poised.

“Good night, Spider-Man.”

* * *

Peter wakes up and can’t move. He is moving, but he can’t. He’s _being_ moved – yeah, that’s it.

Something is wrapped tightly around his ankle, pulling – no, dragging him along. His back is scraping along the floor, his head throbbing uncomfortably as it lolls from side to side.

“Man, I might start doing this bounty hunter shit for real,” someone says. “Lucrative as fuck, am I right?”

“Only because it’s _him_ ,” someone replies. “And this little fucker.” His ankle is given a particularly harsh yank, as if to emphasise the words.

“Gentlemen.” That’s a new voice. Further away.

“Sir. Got what you asked for.” His leg drops suddenly, hitting the cold floor with a dull smack.

“So I see.” Footsteps moving closer. “Take his mask off.”

“With pleasure.” Fingers find the seam of his mask with ease and yank it off, and he can’t muster even a grunt of protest.

A chuckle. “It’s him.”

“How can you tell, sir?”

The third voice scoffs. “Stark, when he deigned to leave his ivory tower and grace us with his presence after the Snap, only talked about losing two people: Spider-Man, and his teenage intern. It took some resources and brainpower, but I know now they’re one and the same. Young Peter Parker.”

They know. Peter would sob if he could. They know his face. They know his _name_.

“Right. We’ve done what you asked.”

“The money is already in your accounts. Enjoy your freedom, gentlemen. If you get yourselves into trouble again, I will not be inclined to help you, nor will I be able to. Stay out of trouble. Disappear, if you want.”

“You got it, sir.”

“Now, Spider-Man,” ‘Sir’ says, “let’s put you where you belong.”

Peter wills himself to move, a hand, a foot, anything, but he spirals into darkness again before he can even try opening his eyes.

* * *

_“Hey, Tony.”_

“Mrs Parker. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

_“I’m hoping you and Peter finally talked things out.”_

“Um, no. No, we didn’t. I’m trying, he just–“

_“So he’s not…with you?”_

“No?” Tony stands up from the couch, feeling Pepper’s worried eyes on him. “We had – God, we had a bad argument, but he wouldn’t – he’d tell you if he was staying out.”

_“Can you track his suit?”_

“He took the trackers out.”

_“What?”_ May cries. _“Why would he do that?”_

“He didn’t want – I’ve been trying to keep an eye on him since he got back, but he’s been pushing me away, and I don’t know what I’ve done.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Okay, I can get FRIDAY to start combing CCTV for him. I’ll try and find a backdoor into his suit. Keep calling him.”

_“Okay, okay – God, okay. I’ll call Happy.”_

“Yeah, do that. I’ll let Rhodey know.”

_“Tell me if you hear anything, okay? Anything.”_

“Of course, yeah.” Tony hangs up.

Pepper’s already there, a hand on his arm. “Peter?”

“MIA,” Tony says. “I gotta do something, I–“

“Do whatever you need,” Pepper says firmly. “I’ll hold it down here. Go.”

* * *

Peter wakes up to grey. Grey walls, grey ceiling, grey shitty cot, grey floor. Even the clothes he’s wearing are a washed-out blue that might as well be grey.

He’s wearing clothes. Where’s his suit? How did he get dressed?

Memories trickle back, one at a time, disjointed and fuzzy: the fight, shouting at Mr Stark, Scorpion and Shocker finding him, and – trading him. Everyone he’s fought in the last few weeks that was after him, that should’ve been on the Raft, had been sent by someone. For him.

He tries to stand, only to stagger into the wall and slide down it. He sits there, shaking, and pulls his knees to his chest.

_Think, Peter, think_. Three white-grey walls. One that looks like one-way glass, but it’s opaque for him. He shudders at the thought that someone could be watching from the other side, as if he’s a zoo animal or a lab rat or a prisoner.

Oh. That might be it.

But why? Why him? Why now? Has he done something? What was so bad that they had to send bounty hunters after him like he’s in _Star Wars_?

Despite everything, his mouth quirks a little. Does this make him Han Solo or Baby Yoda? He definitely feels like shit, so maybe this is hibernation sickness.

Does Mr Stark know what happened? Does he care? Did Peter deliver the death blow to their relationship right before he needed him the most? He’s messed up. He’s messed up bad.

No one comes to speak to him, comes to explain what the hell’s going on. He just sits, queasy and trembling, alone in the silence.

Alone.

* * *

“Anything?” Pepper says as soon as she wakes up, just like she did yesterday, just like Rhodey does when he arrives back from yet another fruitless search of the city.

“No,” Tony says tightly. Happy, asleep in a chair next to him, jolts awake with an aborted snore.

“Okay,” she says, gentle, and goes to the kitchen. Tony’s world might be collapsing around his ears, but Morgan still needs breakfast.

“May still asleep?” he asks.

_“She is, Boss.”_ FRIDAY pauses. _“Secretary Ross is trying to call you. I have him on hold.”_

Everything freezes.

“Why?” Happy says. “What does he want?”

“He will not disclose that to me.”

“Not a coincidence,” Happy says. “Not now.”

Tony presses his lips together. “Nope. Rhodes, get in here. Put him through, girl.”

_“Stark.”_ He can almost picture Ross, just from the smug note in his voice alone, lounging back in his chair. _“I thought I’d update you on some progress with enforcing the Accords now the world seems to be back on its feet.”_

“What update might that be? Sir.”

_“The Accords have never approved of vigilantes, and they’re not about to start just because the world’s population has suddenly doubled in size.”_

“The world population was restored to _its original size_ ,” Tony says through his teeth.

_“Regardless, an unregistered vigilante was detained two days ago.”_

“Detained how?” Rhodey says over Tony’s shoulder.

_“I don’t think that’s any concern of yours, Colonel.”_

_He said_. Someone has been whispering in ears, sending the worst kind of people after Peter. This can’t be a coincidence.

Rhodey keeps going, keeps pushing. “Why was your focus on a small-time vigilante instead of the multiple dangerous inmates who have escaped from the Raft in the past few months?”

Ross doesn’t answer. Tony smirks. _Got you_.

“Do we get to know the identity of this vigilante?” Rhodey says.

_“Surprised you haven’t figured it out already, Colonel.”_

“Let’s pretend I have,” Rhodey says coolly, “and I’m still confused by the method and reasons behind his arrest. How would you explain that to me?”

More silence. Then a click.

“Were you recording that?” Tony says.

_“Of course, Boss.”_

“He got too cocky,” Rhodey says. “He wanted to gloat. We got him now, Tones.”

“Yeah? And where’s Peter?”

Rhodey purses his lips. “Where do you think?”

* * *

Has it been two days? Three? He’s lost count. He hasn’t seen another human for days. He’s walked up every wall, dangled from the ceiling, and nothing. Not even an acknowledgement. No one telling him to get down. Even his food is pushed through a slot.

That’s a point. How many meals has he had? Does he even get three a day?

It’s nothingness. It’s silence. It’s grey and white and blue, all day, every day. He’s alone.

Which gives him plenty of time with his thoughts. Self-therapy. And he comes to the conclusion he’s been a bit of a dick. He was so afraid of losing Mr Stark he hadn’t even considered that maybe the man was here to stay, new family and all.

And now he’s stuck in a grey box, and he can’t tell Mr Stark anything. Can’t apologise, can’t explain, can’t ask for reassurance. What if he’s stuck here forever? What if Mr Stark never comes? The last thing he said…

God, he’s such an idiot. He lets his head flop forward, hitting his knees, and stays like that.

Once more, he loses track of time, curled up against the wall, chin resting on his knees. He’s so lost in thought that when a sharp alarm blares through his cell, he nearly falls over with fright.

_“Step away from the door,”_ a voice says, flat and uninterested, crackling as if through a speaker.

Peter scrambles backwards, nerves swirling in his gut. What are they going to do? Why now?

The one-way glass slides away to reveal a guard and–

“Mr Stark,” Peter breathes.

“Out of there,” Mr Stark says sharply. He’s in a neatly pressed suit, his eyes jumping all over the place. “Quick.”

“O-okay.” Peter stumbles forward, wondering if this is real or if he’s finally gone mad. The guard watches him with something like mistrust.

As soon as he’s within reach, Mr Stark grabs him by the shoulders and pulls him into a hug.

“Oh – we’re doing this, okay–“

“Jesus, kid,” Mr Stark breathes. His embrace is warm and comforting, and Peter sinks into it. Just like he had on the battlefield, when Mr Stark had looked at him like the world might finally be whole again.

Yeah. He’s been an idiot.

“Let’s go,” Mr Stark says quietly. “Rhodey’s in DC now, and I don’t want to give Ross time to retaliate.”

“Ross?” It makes sense now; he must be on the Raft. “But – it was Scorpion who got me–“

“Yeah, that’s a whole thing.” Mr Stark starts walking, one arm still wrapped tight around Peter. “But a thing for later. We’re going. Leaving, sharpish. Stat.”

“I’m sorry–“

“Also a thing for later. Maybe five minutes. Come on. Jet’s waiting.”

“Okay.”

“Good boy,” Tony says. They’re in the elevator now, the air thick with tension. His fingers are twitching, as if he expects to he attacked at any second. “Okay, let’s move. Into the jet.”

Peter follows, half-dragged out of the elevator and up the ramp. It’s only when the door shuts and the engine hums to life that Mr Stark finally relaxes, sitting in one of the seats with a long sigh.

“Fucking hate this place,” he mutters. “Let’s go, Fri.”

Peter collapses in another chair, boneless with relief. He’s out, he’s going home. “Ross did this?”

“Yep,” Mr Stark says. “Him and a few friends. Rhino. That Electro man. Scorpion. Shocker.”

“He sent them after me.”

“He cut them a deal,” Mr Stark says through gritted teeth, “because messing with me is apparently more goddamn important than not letting dangerous criminals out on the street.”

“That’s all it was? Fucking with you?”

“Under the guise of upholding the Accords, yeah. Because apparently even that asshole can see–“ Mr Stark breaks off suddenly, shaking his head.

“What?” Peter says quietly.

“How important you are to me, kid, come on.”

Okay. Time to do this. “Mr Stark, I’ve been – I’m really sorry.”

“Kid–“

“I didn’t think you wanted me around anymore, and I tried to make you stop – I don’t know, feeling like you _had_ to take care of me–“

“Like I _had_ to?” Mr Stark repeats, looking almost affronted. Offended, even. “For a smart kid, you’re a dumbass sometimes.”

Peter splutters.

“Why do you think I did it, huh? Why, if I was so happy with my real family, would I invent time travel? Why would I risk myself like that if my life was complete?”

“…because it was the right thing to do?”

Mr Stark smiles ruefully. “Nice to know you have a higher opinion of me than I deserve. I – Pete, I did it for you.”

“…oh.” Nice intelligent answer there.

“You’re my kid,” Mr Stark says softly. “And I lost you, and it was the worst thing I could possibly imagine, and when I got you back, it was like you didn’t want to be around me.”

“I’m sorry–“

“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t explain anything at all. I lived the five years, but I never thought – of course it’s gotta be weird for you. Coming back, and everything’s different.”

“I didn’t mean what I said.”

“I know. It’s okay.” Mr Stark shifts, just a subtle movement, but Peter understands instantly. He crosses the jet in a couple of strides and all but falls into his outstretched arms. “Hey, you’re okay. Shit, they didn’t hurt you or anything, did they? Forgot to even–“

“No, they just left me alone,”

Mr Stark kisses the side of his head. It feels like forgiveness. 

_“Boss, Colonel Rhodes is calling.”_

“Yep, put him through.” He doesn’t let go of Peter, but rocks him side to side like a child.

For once, Peter doesn’t mind being treated like a kid.

_“Tones? How we looking?”_

“One kid, present and correct. How’d Washington take your hot gossip?”

_“The VP is taking it straight to the President,”_ Rhodey says _. “I’ll stick around and see how it plays out, but it looks like they’re going to ask Ross to step down with immediate effect and request an overhaul of the Accords. His position must’ve been more tenuous than we thought. Maybe he figured he could use the kid as leverage down the line if things stopped going his way.”_

“Well, that’s never happening.”

_“Nope. Sounds like you’re home free.”_

“They know my name,” Peter says. “Him, and the others – Scorpion and Shocker. They know what I look like.”

_“Then I have some threatening to do,”_ Rhodey says, calm as ever. _“We’ll handle this, kid. You take care of yourself. I’ll talk to you later, Tones.”_

“Bye, Rhodey. Thank you.”

Silence for a few moments. Peter listens to the hum of the jet, the wind blowing past the wings.

“You want to stay for dinner tomorrow?” Mr Stark asks. “It’s family dinner night. Morgan’s dying to meet you. She wants to see if you live up to the stories.”

“Stories?”

“I had to tell her about her big brother, didn’t I?”

_Big brother. Family dinner. My kid_. Oh. “That sounds good. I – I’d like to meet her, too.”

“And I still want to check your suits. Both of them.”

“Okay. You can put the trackers back in. If you want.”

“Solemnly swear I will not use them to stalk you.”

“No, it was – you were worried.”

“Yeah,” Mr Stark says. “The thought of losing you again – nope. Wasn’t even entertaining it.”

“I’m _really_ sorry.”

“Listen, it’s okay. I expected everything to just – happen perfectly when we fixed the universe. You’d slot back in like nothing ever happened, which was stupid. Obviously.”

Peter smiles. “Can we try again?”

“Course we can. Let’s reset. We’ll start with dinner.”

“Dinner and a jailbreak.”

“That makes it sound a lot cooler than it was.”

Peter, for the first time in two months, really laughs.

**Author's Note:**

> we get angst and whump, and then we get emotionally mature communication :)
> 
> make sure to check out the rest of the fics in this collection!
> 
> i'm on tumblr @akillerqueenwrites, or my main blog @akillerqueenyouare. come say hi, ask questions, leave prompts or just yell at me. i've also made a twitter, @killerqueenao3, if any of you want to talk to me there (it's mostly pictures of my dog). thank you for reading!


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